A Weakness So Terrible
by Yosuke
Summary: A small argument over the phone one night leads to terrifying consequences for Misaki and Akihiko. With the novelist in the hospital, Misaki reminiscences about the tragedy that shook his childhood, and realizes with horror the same thing that may have caused his parents' death has put his lover in a hospital bed. Rated for sexual content, slight language, and angst. [complete]
1. Part 1

A Weakness So Terrible  
Yosuke

* * *

AN: Oh, how I love Junjou Romantica. And oh, how I loved writing a fanfiction for it once before. I just can't resist giving it another shot. Hopefully this one will come out just as enjoyable. Fingers crossed, folks.

As a warning before you start reading, this story contains quite a bit of drama and some angsty-feels. It you are not comfortable with Junjou Romantica characters in such situations, please do not read, and if you do read, don't bitch about it. I gave you fair warning.

This story wasn't necessarily written to be fit into any designated point in the manga storyline, as there really is hardly any character development past the first few volumes. But if you need it _somewhere_, all I can say is probably towards the latter half of the series.

JR not mine.

* * *

There was a weakness to Misaki Takahashi that was constantly present in his life, deeply rooted in his mind and often awakening a dull fear that kept him grounded. He was well aware of mistakes he'd made in the past and tried vehemently never to repeat. The most significant and dominating mistake of his life, or so he believed, was the car accident that had claimed his parents' lives.

_"If only..."_

Those were the most resounding words in his heads whenever he thought of them. _If only_ he hadn't talked to them on the phone that evening. _If only_ he hadn't told them to hurry home. They'd still be alive if it weren't for him, and now that single mistake had taken control of his mind on a regular basis. The brat he'd been when he was younger was gone. Now, if anything he did ever caused even the slightest inconvenience for someone else, he berated himself unmercifully. This weakness of his was overwhelming sometimes, a weakness so terrible that it had completely shattered freedoms a kid his age would take for granted. If someone offered to do something for him, to pay for his food, to buy him presents, to help him with his work, he felt a heavy guilt settle on his shoulders. He didn't want to inconvenience anyone. He couldn't take that risk again, not after it had done so much damage the first time around.

Now despite all of the drama Misaki Takahashi would constantly go through for this weakness, it wasn't to say that he didn't have a good life. He was still an ordinary, outspoken, content college student with a bashful smile and a loving personality. He enjoyed his studies, spending time with his older brother and sister-in-law, going to work, things a normal nineteen-year-old would love to do. Sometimes, things were so good, he completely forgot about his overbearing weakness, but most of the time, he was consumed by another, _very_ overbearing weakness.

That weakness was currently calling his cell phone for the twelfth time that day.

Misaki growled in agitation and picked up his phone, staring at the caller ID before punching the "talk" button. "What do you need now?"

_"I can call all day, you know. Ignoring my calls won't help."_

Misaki sighed heavily and plopped down on the sofa, staring at the ceiling of the condominium and wishing he were somewhere else. Akihiko Usami could be such a pain sometimes. It didn't matter how rich or handsome or good in bed he was. An annoyance was an annoyance. Even in another city, at a simple book signing event, this man could just as easily reach through a phone and twist around Misaki's whole day. "What are you so upset about? You usually don't call this much unless you're angry about something."

_"I'm not angry. I'm just wondering why you lied to me."_

Misaki's head bolted up. "Lied? When did I lie?"

Akihiko's voice was somehow deeper over the phone, a sobering fact for Misaki. It made the man a little more intimating, and wrung the truth from him so much more easily. He didn't like that he couldn't see the novelist's face when he spoke; he could be so easy to read sometimes just by looking at him, but when there was no face to match up to the voice, it was harder to tell which emotions he was trying to convey. This was something Akihiko seemed well aware of, perhaps even before Misaki was aware of it himself. Sometimes, when the older man tried to use lustful words to seduce Misaki in bed, he would deepen his voice, and it sent a pleasant shiver through the boy's body. The voice reverberated through him and made him tremble. It empowered Akihiko to see his young lover shivering as such, and would often go in for the kill after that...

Misaki jerked up from his thoughts just in time to catch Akihiko's explanation.

_"When I called yesterday, you said you were at home. I just found out from Aikawa that she saw you at a restaurant with that friend of yours, Sumi-something."_

The boy gawked at the accusation. "Usagi, I've told you a million times, he's my friend! And yes, I went out with him yesterday, to a small diner, _not_ a restaurant, to have a mini-celebration with him because it was his birthday and he didn't think he needed to celebrate it! I took him out to eat to get him motivated to celebrate!" Misaki tried to calm himself, taking a deep breath. "And yes, I was at home yesterday when you called. I had just gotten back from the diner." Suddenly, Misaki bolted up, having realized something. "Wait a minute, Aikawa told you? Did... Did you have her follow me?"

_"That's not important right now."_

"You-! You had me followed! You called Aikawa and told her to follow me to see if I was dating someone else while you were gone!"

The sound of Akihiko clearing his throat over the phone was enough of a confession.

"I can't believe you!" Misaki stood from the couch, clutching the phone as if it would convey his anger more clearly. "How much did you pay her for that, huh? I bet her paycheck is gonna look really nice now. Was that worth it, Usagi?"

_"Misaki, calm down. You're overreacting."_

"_I'm_ overreacting? No, you're overreacting! I have one small dinner with a friend and you think I'm... I'm... doing whatever I do with you... with him!" (It was difficult to use such simple words like "screw" or "sleep with" or "fuck" when talking with Akihiko. He was, after all, a pervert). "Why can't you ever trust me? Why would you think I'd run off to someone else the moment your back is turned?"

_"I do trust you, Misaki. I don't trust everyone else, and I don't trust that you'll know when you're being deceived by someone just so they can get you in their bed."_ Akihiko's voice was slowly getting more and more filled with frustration. He was used to getting into arguments with his editor or his publishers, and even more used to escaping them before anything got too heated. Akihiko just was not a confrontational person, but that was mainly by choice; he was just too lazy to argue with anyone sometimes. But this was something he just couldn't let go. The idea that his sweet and naive Misaki could be bedded by someone else sent pangs of fury through his body, and it was obvious in the tone of his voice. But Misaki wouldn't let him win this one just because he was in the most power in the relationship, or because he was at the disadvantage in the situation, because he couldn't be there physically to see for himself if Misaki was being faithful or not.

The dark-haired boy ran a hand through his hair, trying to clear his mind before he became too overwhelmed by his anger, but the steam building inside just wasn't calming fast enough. The urge to vent was overpowering, and he bit his lip to keep himself from swearing into the phone.

"Well, you know what, Usagi? I'm not helpless like you think I am. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and I don't need you or Aikawa holding my hand." The venting was imminent now. "You don't want me seeing Sumi? Tough luck. He's my friend and I can see him all I want. I'm going to go see him right now, in fact."

_"Misaki!"_

"I'm pretty sure he's home, and I'm always welcome in his house. You don't want me to see him? Just come and try to stop me." And with that, he carried out the most satisfying "end" button punch he'd ever performed in his life. With a heavy, pent-up sigh, Misaki threw his phone on the couch without even so much as a thought to needing it later, grabbed his coat and headed for the door, wishing to cut ties with his lover for just one night so he could spend it peacefully in the company of a friend. He didn't want to be angry for the whole night. He didn't even want to be angry right then. He loved Akihiko, as difficult as it could be to admit that to himself (or to Usagi) sometimes, but he did care for him very much, and knew this fight could potentially be very damaging to them in the future. But he didn't care right then. All he wanted was to spend a night drinking with his friend, watch a bad movie, discuss strange professors, and come home the next day to listen to a heartfelt apologetic voicemail from Usagi. Then once the novelist did come back from his trip, they could make amends, discuss their problems, and from past experience, end the night in lovemaking, regardless of how much Misaki would protest.

Grabbing his key by the door, he slammed the door shut (he wondered how long he would let his emotions get the better of him), and made his way to Sumi's house.

* * *

The night dragged on at an excruciating pace. Misaki was painfully aware of each passing moment and the countdown to the inevitable meeting with Akihiko whenever he would return. He was scheduled to be back the day after tomorrow, but knowing the man and his sporadic behavior, Misaki wouldn't have been the least bit surprised to see him at Sumi's doorstep the moment the boy decided to leave.

Misaki sighed for the dozenth time that night and fell onto his side, dropping his head into Keiichi's lap with little inhibitions over the moment. Keiichi glanced down from around his shotglass at his classmate, eyeing him lazily. "Hey, you're not falling asleep on me, are you?" He patted the soft brown hair, smiling. "What a lightweight."

"Shut up, I am not," Misaki growled, closing his eyes and vaguely wishing that the large hand petting him was Usagi's. A blush stole across his face, but he was barely aware of it. A large part of him just wanted to fall asleep in the older student's lap. "Mind if I crash here for tonight, Sumi?"

"Mi casa e su casa, kid." Keiichi downed his shot quickly, reaching for the bottle of triple-distilled vodka and filling his glass again, then handing it to Misaki, who eyed it like he were being offered goat blood instead.

"N... Nah... I think I'm good for tonight."

"Lightweight," Keiichi sneered quietly and took the shot himself. Misaki didn't have the strength to object.

"Tonight's just not a good night," he said softly, his words a little slurred. "I don't want to black out... I'll just end up having nightmares."

"Oh?" Keiichi mused, setting his glass down and leaning back on his hands. In front of them, the television glowed with whatever late-night programming they'd switched it over to, but at the moment, it was only background noise to Misaki's problems. Keiichi shifted his legs a little, causing Misaki's head to move with them. "Having Usagi problems again?"

"Kinda..." The younger boy whined a little to himself and turned his head to bury his face in his upperclassman's leg, too embarrassed to admit the truth outright. Sumi had always been a great person to talk to about any problems he ever had with Akihiko, but at the same time it was a little suffocating, like the older boy was just trying to milk him for information that he could somehow use against him later. Sumi had a thing for Akihiko, that much was clear, but he knew he was still his friend. That always reassured him.

"You left him at home?" Keiichi's voice echoed in Misaki's ears; he was barely sober enough to give him most of his attention.

"No, he's out somewhere else. I forget where... He's at a book signing. He called it 'useless publicity', and he really does hate all the attention. He probably attended it for about ten minutes before telling them he had to use the bathroom, then snuck out the back to go back to his hotel." Misaki grinned a little. "He's so predictable sometimes, I wonder why they don't start guarding back entrances. They know he's bound to escape at some point."

"When does he come back?"

"Day after tomorrow, but I doubt he'll wait that long. He'll probably come pounding on your door tomorrow afternoon, looking for me. Sorry about that, in advance," Misaki mumbled before he finally gave up on coherent thought altogether and succumbed to sleep. Sumi smiled down at his friend, finding the moment endearing yet disappointing, as now his drunken camaraderie was at an end. Well, having the younger boy's problems brought to his doorstep wouldn't be as much of a bad thing as Misaki thought it'd be. It only meant Akihiko would be forced to come over, something he knew the man had sworn against. He chuckled at the thought.

Yawning lightly, he decided to follow Misaki's example and lied back himself, content with a little snooze on the floor for about a half-hour before he'd be forced to walk Misaki to the bathroom two dozen times, as prior nights of drinking had set the example of what was waiting for him. Misaki was such a lightweight. Such an adorable, Usagi-obsessed lightweight.

* * *

Misaki awoke the next day to the delightfully comfortable futon beneath him, the warm sheets wrapped around him, and the harsh banging of a fist against the front door. Groaning, he turned his face into the pillow to try and pretend the noise wasn't happening and hope someone else would answer the door. Who could be bothering him at home like this? Akihiko wasn't back yet, so the visitor had to have come for him...

His eyes shot open and he twisted to look around the room he was in. This was not his home, that fact was now clear. He was in Sumi's house, on one of his spare futons, in the tatami room. The throbbing in his head indicated a light hangover, and the fact that he was still in his clothes from the day before explained everything else. That's right, he had gone drinking over at Sumi's house in the hopes of forgetting about Usagi for a night. It seemed to have worked pretty well, but that incessant knocking at the door was bringing him crashing back down to earth at an alarming rate. He didn't want to face Akihiko yet; he didn't want to have another argument. He needed to get straightened out first. He needed to at least be presentable.

Hoping Sumi would stall the novelist at the door, Misaki jumped to his feet and raced to the bathroom, going through the morning rituals at a flurried pace. When a knocking at the bathroom door resounded loudly through the small room, the boy nearly jumped out of his skin. Quickly checking his hair once more, he cracked the door open and peeked through. Keiichi stood there, looking a little annoyed.

"An Aikawa is here to see you." He sounded even more hungover than Misaki. But the boy barely paid attention to that fact. The name "Aikawa" resonated in his head like the ticking of a bomb. Akihiko had sent Aikawa after him again? That man was unbelievable! Hadn't he heard Misaki the first time?

"I can't believe him!" Misaki sputtered, throwing the door open. "He had her follow me again! That inconsiderate little-"

"Whatever, buddy, just go talk to her. She looks like she's on the verge of a nervous breakdown."

This startled Misaki back into the present. "What?"

"I thought you said _he_ would be here. Damn..." Sumi grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned to walk back to his room. "And here I was ready for him and everything..."

Misaki hardly listened to his friend's complaints. What could Aikawa be so panicked about? Feeling small tremors of nervousness crawl in his belly, Misaki made his way to the front door, finding the editor in the foyer with her hands intertwined in front of her stomach and her eyes concerned. An explanation to the whole thing filtered through Misaki's thought process for a moment and he considered that perhaps Aikawa had only sought him out because Akihiko had fed her some lie that Misaki had been hurt, or _worse, _refused to be a part of Akihiko's smut-laden fantasy novels. That would practically kill the poor woman.

"Okay, Aikawa, what does he want now? I know he had you follow me." Misaki wasn't in the mood for any of Usagi's games; Aikawa needed to get to the point before his anger swallowed him again like it had yesterday.

But his fury was quelled at the sight of tears beginning to brim in the editor's eyes. She was nearly shaking.

"Misaki, why didn't you answer your phone this morning? I had to have called at least a hundred times."

The boy flinched, suddenly remembering his phone, forcibly forgotten on the couch at the apartment. "I, uh... I guess I left it at home. I got... mad at Usagi, and I didn't want to talk to him again last night... Why? What's up?" He nearly choked on the question, his brain telling him it was a dangerous question to ask, because some very dangerous answer was waiting for him.

"Misaki... I need you to stay calm, okay? Don't panic when I tell you." Her voice sounded slightly urgent, and it made Misaki's skin prickle. He took a step forward, eyes searching her face in trepidation.

"What? What happened?" This moment was so familiar... Why was that?

"Usami, he was rushing home late last night..."

Misaki's stomach curled into knots, his heart lurching into his throat. Haunting memories began to automatically fill in the blanks, and he had to will himself viciously to keep listening in case he was jumping to conclusions, like he had a tendency to do.

"I told him we'd have him on a train the next day, but he refused, said he needed to see you. He said something was wrong... He looked pretty angry..." Aikawa clearly did not want to have to deliver this news to the boy. "He took my car and drove back into town. But there... there was an accident..."

Without realizing it had happened, Misaki had fallen to sit on the floor, staring up at Aikawa as if she had just delivered him a death sentence. Gradually, he slipped into tunnel vision, and her voice echoed softly in his ears.

"He's alive, Misaki, but he's hurt. He was taken to the hospital. Apparently, he ran a red light, and the other car didn't see him in time."

The words became garbled, slurred, like he was trying to hear someone from the bottom of a pool. He altogether forgot about his breathing, even as his heart hammered at a dangerously slow pace in his shaking chest. A mixture of reactions was brimming in his head, too confused to know which one would be most appropriate for the situation. The first one that seemed to want to be the most noticed was denial...

_Usagi was fine. He was absolutely fine. Aikawa was just making a big deal about it because she'd heard her cash cow got into a fender-bender. That was all._

Then anger slowly started surfacing.

_Why?... Why had this happened? Wasn't Usagi thinking? Why in the hell would he run a red light? What reckless moron hit his car? This wasn't fair!_

Bit by bit, the other emotions fell into place, taking turns to mess with his thought process and render any appropriate outward emotions from him except to stare wordlessly at Aikawa.

_Please, God, no... This couldn't happen. Not again. Please, don't let Usagi be hurt. Don't let him d... don't di... No, God, this isn't fair!_

_I can't... I can't go through this again... I can't live without Usagi... I'm dead without him... _

_ He's... He's really been hurt... He's in a hospital because he ran a red light, got hit by a car, on his way home late last night... after getting off the phone with me._ Misaki's eyes unfocused altogether as the horrid reality crashed down around him. _Usagi was rushing home because of the argument. I threatened him, telling him he couldn't stop me from seeing my friends... So he rushed home to try and stop me... I did this... I caused his accident._

Aikawa's worried voice fell on deaf ears as Misaki slowly climbed to his feet, staring at nothing, focusing on nothing, only aware that his Usagi was lying in a hospital bed because he'd made him come home to stop him from doing something the older man clearly did not appreciate. Misaki had led to his parents' death the same way, and now the person he loved the most in the world would also be taken from him, because of his selfishness, because he couldn't see how Akihiko had only been trying to protect him.

The boy didn't see the house move around him as he walked, not really knowing where he was going. The world passed in slow motion, and he could just barely make out Keiichi's form in the hallway, staring at him with an unreadable expression. The older student tried to ask a question... or something... but Misaki didn't hear it. Instead, all he heard was the sound of his pulse thrumming in his ears and the uncomfortable churning of his stomach. _Usagi..._ _Usagi, what have I done?..._

* * *

Part 1 end - to be continued

AN: In case I wasn't very clear, the five sets of emotions Misaki was feeling when Aikawa told him the news were the five stages of grief/death: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and finally Acceptance. Sorry for the angst.

Happy thoughts, y'all!


	2. Part 2

A Weakness So Terrible  
[Part 2]  
Yosuke

* * *

AN: I actually finished writing this story before I posted the first part, and I always find it tricky deciding where chapters and story segments should start and where they should be cut off to continue to the next chapter. I apologize if any chapter I ever write for anything, including this story, seems to cut off abruptly.

Again, I warn in advance: Don't like the sad feels and the angst? Please don't read. Still plan to read it anyway? Take it like a champ.

JR not mine.

* * *

_Usagi..._ _Usagi, what have I done?..._

Like every moment that had passed so slowly since Aikawa delivered the news, the young boy hardly seemed to notice anything he did, barely aware he was even still in the present, as he collapsed to his hands and knees and subconsciously rode through his stomach spasming. Sumi's voice just barely reached him as hands grabbed his shoulders, but not in time to stop him from heaving onto the floor, the horrendous shock of the moment mixed with his hangover making the boy weak and susceptible to the intense trauma.

He wasn't sure when he'd stopped vomiting, or at what point he'd been put in a car. He faintly remembered seeing buildings speeding by, and Aikawa's nervous chatter. Before he knew it, he was surrounded by the grey, metallic walls of an elevator, and so suddenly the all too familiar smell of a hospital hit his senses. It was at that point that Misaki snapped out of his half-conscious state, staring at an empty waiting room while Aikawa talked to a nurse. The boy shuddered once, harshly, understanding what had happened and how familiar this all felt to him. He felt like he was going to be sick again. Putting a hand on his forehead as if that would somehow steady him, he guided himself to a seat, holding his head in despair and gluing his eyes to the stark white tiles. He was afraid to close his eyes. If he did, he'd only start imagining things, remembering the newspaper photograph of his parents' car after it had been totaled, and pretending that Akihiko's car had suffered the same fate, much to his heart's discontent.

_It's fine, it's all fine. She said Usagi is still alive. He's just hurt, is all..._ But how badly? Just because he was alive didn't necessarily mean it'd be for long. He tried to shake the grim thoughts from his mind, but they stuck like a disease, slowing eating away his mental capacities. Someone needed to tell him something. They just needed to tell him his condition, that was all he needed. He could try to absorb the details later, but for now, he just wanted to know if it was a definite "yes, he'll live" or "no, he's not going to make it". Anything, any news at all... He was going to go insane.

Just before deciding to demand some answers from a nurse, Aikawa approached him, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Misaki, Usami is fine. He's not awake yet, but he's doing much better than last night."

Misaki couldn't find the strength to lift his head to look her in the face. He wouldn't be able to stomach a lie just to ease him. Was Usagi really okay?

"His left shoulder was dislocated, and his arm is broken. He got a concussion from the impact, but they said that's the only thing keeping him asleep. Once the head injury subsides a little, they expect he'll wake up at any time."

With very little courage, the boy finally managed to lift his head, barely aware of how wet his cheeks were and how badly he was shaking. Aikawa knelt down in front of him, trying to stare up into his eyes with as much sympathy as possible.

"The doctor said he's actually okay to receive visitors now. Let's go in and see him, okay?"

"No." The word escaped before Misaki could stop it, and he nearly surprised himself almost as much as he surprised the woman kneeling before him. "No, I can't... Not yet. I can't see him... I just can't..." The dark-haired boy's head dropped again, fingers lacing through his hair. "Please leave me alone... Just let me wait for a bit... I'm not ready to face him yet..."

The editor clearly didn't understand why it was that Misaki wouldn't jump at the chance to see if his lover was okay, but she never pretended to understand the in-depth details of their relationship, only the superficial pieces required for work. Nodding somewhat, Aikawa stood and left Misaki in the waiting room, following a nurse to go see the injured novelist.

Two hours passed, and time finally seemed to slow down for poor Misaki. With his head still held in indescribable shame, he remained in the waiting room, trying desperately to think of how he could properly apologize to Akihiko once he woke up. Honestly, he wasn't even sure he could face him when he did awaken. What was he supposed to say to the man he'd almost killed? "Sorry about that?" There was no amount of sincerity he could put into the explanations that would make up for what he'd done. Perhaps Akihiko wouldn't want to see him anymore. Perhaps he'd kick Misaki out for having almost ruined his life. It would be understandable, but somehow Misaki doubted it would happen like that. The older man had such a strong fondness for the boy, devoid of all reason, and even if he'd been the cause of his near-death experience, Misaki couldn't see the man getting rid of him so easily.

Likewise, Misaki couldn't imagine living without Usagi. His heart broke all over again at the idea, and viciously hoped Akihiko could somehow find it in his heart to forgive him enough to let him stay with him. The boy would have to compensate somehow... He could get a second job to help pay off whatever financial circumstances would arise from this... Akihiko had no doubt lost a chunk of change from dodging out of the book signing weekend early to get home and stop Misaki from making any mistakes. He'd have to repay him for that. Plus, the man was injured. Who knew if he'd be in any condition to work? He certainly wouldn't be able to take proper care of himself. Misaki envisioned full days of labor ahead, but couldn't even cringe. If it would make up for what he'd done, he'd do it a thousand times over. After all, if such a thing could make up for what he'd done to his parents, if it could bring them back, he'd work like a lowly slave for the rest of his life.

_Just please don't hate me, Usagi... Please, don't hate me..._

Another half-hour later, Takahiro arrived at the hospital with his wife, nearly panic-stricken with the knowledge that his best friend was in a hospital bed. The man found his younger brother in the waiting room and rushed to him, asking if everything was okay.

"Yeah... Usagi's fine, I guess. He's just... hurt... I don't know if he's awake yet..." Misaki's voice barely registered in his own head.

"Misaki, you haven't gone in to see him yet?"

"No, Aikawa went to see him for me. Said he's okay, just asleep..."

Takahiro seemed genuinely confused, taking a seat beside his brother. "Why don't you go and see him?"

At the suggestion, Misaki cringed visibly, folding into himself and burying his face into his knees. "I can't... I can't go in there... Please, please don't make me... I can't do it..."

"Why? What's the matter? Don't you want to see if he's okay with your own eyes?"

"So much... I want to see him so much... But I can't..." Tears spotted the fabric of his pants as he began to cry anew. "He was on his way home to see me... He was rushing home... to see me... It's my fault. It's all my fault..." Finally, Misaki lost control and began to sob harshly, shaking from the effort of simply breathing as his fingers dug into his own arms. "I shouldn't have argued with him... I should've just done as he said... But no, I had to behave like a child, and it ended up putting him in the hospital... Usagi... I'm so sorry..."

The pieces of information slowly fell into place, and Takahiro was finally able to gather what had happened, and why Misaki was so despondent. Misaki had always blamed himself for their parents' death. Now it seemed that a similar situation had arisen, and once again the young boy had placed himself in the center of the blame for what had happened, despite that truly, nothing he did could have possibly influenced fate in such a way. Explanations, reasoning, pleading sentences filled Takahiro's head, desperate to put his little brother's worries to rest, but the words died on his tongue. They would all be the same things Misaki had heard when he was young, and as he had grown up. Given the current situation and how deep a hole Misaki had dug himself into on the matter, Takahiro doubted he'd be able to reach him, at least right away. Misaki needed to vent his frustration and tears. He'd wallow in his sorrow for a few days, berate himself unmercifully, then slowly slip back into his normal pace of life. Regardless of how Akihiko made out in this ordeal, Misaki would never forgive himself, and would likely carry the guilt with him for a long time, as he had when he was younger.

Rather than rush into his friend's room to see how he was fairing, Takahiro instead chose to stay by Misaki, taking a seat next to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. The boy turned and cried into his brother's lap, too upset with himself to act more appropriately in public. Every now and then, he choked out pleads for forgiveness and promises of reparation, and Takahiro could only rub his back soothingly in hopes to placate his guilt-laden heart.

About half an hour later, Misaki had managed to calm himself and shrunk back into his own chair, eyes locked onto his own shoes to avoid any guilty eye contact with anyone. His fingers twisted in the fabric of his pant legs, anxiously awaiting any news from the doctors. At one point, his older brother patted his shoulder and took off to see Akihiko, returning ten minutes later with an update on his condition.

"Misaki," Takahiro cooed gently, kneeling back down in front of the nervous boy, hands on his knees lightly, as if the mere touch of another person would scare him back into another frenzy of tears. "Misaki, he's awake."

Blood-shot eyes darted up to calm bespectacled ones, tentative to believe him though he wasn't sure why.

"He's been awake for about twenty minutes. The doctors are taking care of him, but he just needs to rest some more." Takahiro spoke the next sentence very carefully. "He wants to see you. He was asking for you."

The suggestion, a faint request from his own brother to go see the very man he'd put in the hospital, repulsed Misaki, and his eyes once again fell, nervousness roiling around in his stomach so violently that he felt he might vomit. Impulsively, he shook his head, screwing his eyes shut. "I can't..."

"Misaki, he wants to see you. He _wants_ to. Do you think he's angry or something? Because he certainly didn't seem that way. He just wants you there. Why not go to him?"

"Because I almost killed him!" Misaki nearly screamed, drawing the attention of passing nurses and visitors. "Does he know what happened? Does he know he was in a car accident? Does he know it was because of me?" The boy sobbed loudly, plastering himself back into his chair stubbornly. "Did anyone tell him that? Because I'm pretty sure he should know why he's here! Tell him it was me! Tell him I almost murdered him-"

Misaki was cut short by a sharp slap to the face. Pain blossomed on his cheek, the spot reddening as he stared in wide-eyed shock in no particular direction. Takahiro's glare was almost as tortured as Misaki's mind, but his resolve was clearly less shaken. "I'm sorry I did that, Misaki, but I'm not sure how you got it in your head that you're a murderer. Akihiko is alive and well. He didn't get in a car accident because of you. He got in an accident because he drove recklessly and the other driver wasn't paying attention. The only guilty people are Akihiko and the other driver. Now get that through your head." The last words were spoken sharply, like a parent to a spoiled child. After a moment, where neither of them moved, Takahiro let out a heavy sigh, his gaze softening. "I can sit here and put you through all the same speeches I gave you when you were little, and I can honestly say that I'm not really expecting you to listen to them, much less absorb them," the man spoke quietly, his hands back on Misaki's shaking knees. "But painting a target on yourself isn't going to take back what happened, and it isn't going to make Akihiko feel any better. In fact, it's only going to make him feel worse. I've seen how he is around you. His feelings change when yours does. He likes to listen to you talk. You should see how he smiles when you're happy. I've never seen him so at peace."

Misaki's eyes finally found Takahiro's, and the effort the man was making finally seemed to reach the younger boy.

"Misaki, you're very important to him. Do you really think he's going to pretend like this is your fault? I don't think he'd have it in him to see you so miserable. You should save him some grief by not being so self-conscious about _his_ accident."

The boy wasn't quite sure how to respond. The argument his brother had provided had been piercing, going straight into his mind and making sense somehow, but despite this, the future that had yet to reveal itself, the possibility that Akihiko Usami, the man Misaki loved and would've done anything to switch places with at that very moment could perhaps hate him for what he'd done was far too frightening and constricting of the boy's heart, keeping him from being compliant on the matter. Takahiro wanted him to be calm and collected for Akihiko, and Misaki could try, but in the end, he knew he'd be a sniffling mess, falling to the novelist's feet in retribution, doing whatever he could to make up for almost taking his life.

Misaki knew Takahiro could see the indecisiveness in the boy's dark eyes, but for some reason, the older brother let it be and stood, giving Misaki room to stand. The student somehow managed to make it to his feet, though he honestly couldn't even feel the muscles in his legs to help him walk. He ended up wobbling weakly down the hallway, led by a worrisome Takahiro, all the way to the door of the room Akihiko was being kept in to recuperate. Just outside the door was Aikawa, texting like mad on her cell phone, probably trying to get in contact with the publishing companies to rearrange meetings and public appearances. Misaki knew it wasn't all business that was motivating the woman; from the pink of her eyes and her constant sniffling, she was probably doing all she could to keep herself busy and not worry about her friend. If anything, the novelist had probably thrown her out to keep her from blubbering over him.

What if Misaki started crying again? Well, it was an inevitability. What happened when he _did_ start crying again? What would Usagi say? Would he kick him out, too? Would he scold him?

_"Why are you crying, you brat? What right do you have to cry? You put me in here, for godsake. Do something more productive to make this up to me."_

It was such a horrid, twisted feeling to hear Usagi's deep, reassuring voice filled with such contempt in his head. The boy knew that his mentor would never dare to utter such horrifying words to him, regardless of how angry he might be. But the thought still sent chills down his spine, and a renewed wave of panic fluttered in his stomach. Once again, he felt himself get nauseous, and stopped just before turning the handle.

"Misaki?" Takahiro spoke his name softly. The younger Takahashi shook his head lethargically.

"I... I can't..."

"Go, Misaki," his brother encouraged him gently, opening the door and guiding him, before stepping back out into the hallway and shutting the door.

It felt like he had just been locked in a dungeon with a sleeping dragon. The room was silent, save for the sound of flowing oxygen moving the through the tubes connected to Akihiko's nose. The man on the bed was still. Very still. Misaki's heart skipped a beat as a different sort of panic simmered in him, but the slightest movement of the man's head put his worries at ease. Akihiko looked so pale... Perhaps it was the stark lighting of the hospital room, or the white walls and sheets that surrounded him. The bandage on his forehead was pretty sizable... His head injury must have been pretty bad. He'd been unconscious, after all, and he did have a concussion. There was a scratch or two on his face, and his left arm was wrapped in a cast.

A flash of his childhood possessed his thoughts momentarily, remembering looking through the window as his brother identified the bodies...

The atmosphere of the room was suffocating, and the air thickened considerably. Misaki wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to take it. He felt he would pass out or get sick right then and there, but he willed himself to keep his composure, if only for Usagi's sake. Blood pounded deafeningly in his ears, his heart hammering away as if he expected Akihiko to leap up from the bed and kill him.

_Perhaps that was what he deserved..._

Misaki shook the dark thoughts from him, knowing fully well that becoming too emotional over the moment wouldn't make anything better and if he was going to properly apologize to Akihiko, he needed to be in the right state of mind.

But the novelist's unmoving form scared him more than any ideas of revenge against the boy ever could. When would Akihiko wake up again? What would he say? What would he do? The insurmountable possibilities plagued his mind and strangled his heart. Misaki was terrified. What would Usagi do?

"...How long are you just going to stand there and stare?"

The boy squeaked, nearly jumping out of his skin as he realized that a pair of blue eyes were honed in on him, staring with a familiar intensity that made him shiver with anticipation. Akihiko was awake. The moment of truth had arrived.

Taking a deep breath and straightening himself, Misaki took a step closer to the bed, eyes soaking up the details of Akihiko's condition a little better now that he was awake. The man seemed fully aware of his surroundings, and knew that he was indeed hurt. He hadn't bothered to move himself much, though Misaki wasn't sure if he could move at all, considering his dislocated shoulder and various bruises. But Akihiko didn't seem too tired or angry. He just looked... normal, like it was any other day that the man had woken up to see his young lover's face. Oh, if it _had_ been any other day, Misaki would've never again complained about not getting enough time to himself or being forced to cuddle with the novelist until they were both awake the next morning. The boy would've given anything to have a healthy, uninjured Usagi sleeping in his own bed, and it was time to let him know just that.

"Usagi... I..." The words struggled in his throat, almost as if he were choking on them, but Akihiko managed to save him the trouble by cutting him off.

"First things first, Misaki: Do not dote on me. I'm fully conscious and I can move just fine, so no taking on unnecessary amounts of work just to make me feel better. That is except for baths. I might have trouble bathing properly, so I think I'll need you in the tub with me to wash my back."

The sexual suggestion flew right over Misaki's head, who only nodded solemnly, lacing his fingers together in front of him and remaining silent. This caught Akihiko by surprise. He had been ready with about three more rules of things Misaki did and did not need to do for him, mainly things to keep the boy from becoming too stressed over the situation. But Misaki's compliance didn't sit well with the novelist, and he stared carefully at him, trying to gauge just what his lover might be thinking.

"Misaki, come here."

Misaki seemed to shrink in his spot, eyes lowering to the floor as his fingers moved up to grip at his own shirt nervously. "I can't..."

"Why the hell not?"

"It's... It's too scary..."

"What?" Akihiko now seemed genuinely confused. "Why in the world am I scary?"

"Aren't you mad?" he half-whispered, suddenly finding himself trembling again.

"Mad? At who? You?" The older man just couldn't seem to wrap his head around the situation, though he had to wonder if that was because of the head injury provided graciously by his driver-side window and a front fender. "Should I be mad about something? I suppose I'm upset with the other driver, but that's nothing a little lawsuit won't take care of. Aikawa already explained it was partially my fault anyway..."

"No, I-I mean..." Misaki stuttered, finding the tense moment he was suddenly creating very constricting and the most terrifying ordeal of his life. He'd had so many shocking and surprising moments while living with his mentor, but nothing amounted to the guilt and stress weighing heavily on his heart at that moment. If Akihiko told him he was mad, that he blamed him, Misaki wasn't quite sure what he would do in response, other than cry. He wasn't sure how to apologize, how to compensate for the damage he'd done, or could've done.

"Misaki? Why are you crying?"

The boy jerked up, not having realized how wet his cheeks had become, and flushed with embarrassment. Akihiko's face held concern, though like always, it was barely visible behind his stoicism.

"Misaki, look at me. I'm fine. My arm is broken, that's it. I'll be out of here in no time."

"I shouldn't have argued with you!" The words were blurted out before he could stop them, catching them both by surprise, Akihiko more so than Misaki. But as shocking as it had been, it couldn't be taken back, and Misaki was suddenly stuck in the awkward situation of needing to explain himself while trying to keep in tact the dam that was quickly rupturing inside of him. He could feel the heat of the tears behind his eyes that wanted so badly to come flooding out with his words and pleads for forgiveness, and the sudden onslaught of tiny hiccups seemed to help keep his words at bay, despite how much he wanted to explain himself.

"Argued? When?" Akihiko responded, though he had a faint idea to what Misaki might have been referring.

"... Over the phone..." the student answered, his guilt swallowing him whole as his body shook, eyes never daring to lift themselves past the floor. "I shouldn't... I shouldn't have argued with you when you told me... not to see Sumi... I should've just agreed with you... Then you wouldn't have rushed home like this... You wouldn't have-"

"Stop right there." The command was firm, nearly thundering in the small room and startling Misaki into glimpsing up at the suddenly upset man laying on the bed. "Don't you dare blame this on yourself, Misaki. Don't you even let that thought cross your mind."

"But it has," Misaki argued on impulse, his mouth on auto-pilot. "It's all I've been thinking about. It's eating at me. I can't stop thinking about how I... I got you hurt... how I almost got you killed..."

The next series of events took Misaki completely by surprise, and happened far too quickly for his mind to register. Where Akihiko had seemed quite weak and immobile before, now he was quick and almost as strong as he would be had he not just been pulled from the wreckage of two cars. He had somehow managed to climb from his cot, pulling the oxygen tube and IV drip from his body, throwing the sheets to the side, and storming rather haphazardly straight to his young lover. The anger was evident on the man's face, and it frightened Misaki, who could never recall a day in his life where he'd ever been afraid of this man.

Akihiko towered over Misaki with such great intimidation that the boy instinctively fell several steps backwards until he was pressed against the wall, his mentor following until he could put a hand on the wall beside Misaki's head as if to keep him from running away. It was as if his strength had never left him, power and a daunting swiftness emanating from him as he leaned down to level his eyes with Misaki's, drawing in his full attention with an expression of anger lightly topped with weariness.

"Listen to me, Misaki," he started, his voice as deep and commanding as Misaki always remembered it, and he felt he had no choice but to fall completely into the man's presence. "You did _not_ put me in the hospital. You had _nothing_ to do with this. I lost my head and took the car. _Me_. Don't you, for a single second, try to take the blame for any of this. If I even hear one more word out of you about being at fault, I will not forgive you."

Misaki felt trapped, in a way. His heavy guilt kept him from trying to duck out of the man's grasp, though he was sure he could get away, what with the fatigue that was clearly evident in the man's shaking arms. The mental hold Akihiko seemed to have on him didn't help either. It was like his piercing, angry eyes had a vice grip on the crestfallen boy, ready to smack some sense into him if need be. But it wouldn't hold up forever; Akihiko eventually let his gaze fall as his shoulders sagged. He was about to collapse, and Misaki had to move quickly to catch him as best as he could, despite that the man was twice his size in body mass.

"Usagi, you shouldn't have gotten up. The nurses are gonna yell at me now," Misaki whined, leading his lover back over to the suddenly much more comfortable bed. Akihiko took a keen notice to how he had worded that sentence. Normally, he imagined Misaki would've said "The nurses are gonna yell at _you_." But the novelist couldn't help but think that poor burdened Misaki was currently trying to redirect all the guilt towards himself to better accommodate Akihiko, regardless of how at fault he was for anything. The man groaned in both frustration and pain as he was shifted back into laying down.

Misaki straightened out the sheets around him, but as he turned to reach for the long-forgotten oxygen tube, he was suddenly yanked down by his arm, forced to fall directly over Akihiko. He tried to catch himself before he tumbled over, but the man had a sudden grip on his shoulders and was pulling him down into a forceful kiss. The student's eyes were wide in surprise for a long moment before recognition took him over and he tried to pull out of the unusual advance, but Akihiko wouldn't have any of it. His kiss was merciless, not even daring to give Misaki a moment to breathe as he pushed his lips hard against his lover's, coaxing his mouth open with his tongue to better the intimacy. A shudder ran through Misaki's body, tearing a slight whimper from him as he attempted to better adjust himself on the bed, wary of Akihiko's hurt shoulder.

After a long, sensual moment, the novelist released his trembling lover, but only for a moment. Hooking a hand around the back of his neck to only allow him up so much, he stared straight up into Misaki's wide brown eyes, intent on getting his full attention.

"You didn't acknowledge what I said before, Misaki. Was I clear?"

Misaki was breathless, awkwardly posed over Akihiko as the man spoke straight into his soul.

"Misaki... Nothing that happened was your fault. Let it go. Everything is okay now." The gaze turned softer. "Please don't hurt yourself for this."

Misaki knew he didn't mean it on a physical level; Misaki was anything but self-destructive. It had simply been words of love. Akihiko didn't want Misaki to tear himself up inside over the issue of who was to blame, but that was easier said than done. The boy knew the hatred he felt for himself was cemented inside him, weighing down everything he did, from walking to thinking, and it would remain that way until he could somehow find the strength to forgive himself. Misaki wanted nothing more than to believe Akihiko, but his heart just wouldn't allow it.

Misaki had to appease his lover somehow, so rather than wholeheartedly agree as he knew Akihiko would want, the boy nodded solemnly, forcing out a small smile, aware that the man on the bed could clearly see how fake the response was and how it belied his intentions. It was enough for then, though, and Akihiko released Misaki, watching him carefully as he pulled a chair to the bedside and sat patiently as if awaiting commands. It was a sad sight, Akihiko thought, to see Misaki so apathetic and listless.

Several moments passed, wherein Misaki simply sat at Akihiko's side, just listening to him breathe and trying to find some amusement by the passing phases or boredom and annoyance that played on his lover's face from time to time. But really, there was no humor to be found in that room, and there wouldn't be for the next hour, even when the two had managed to strike up a rather nonchalant conversation about little things that usually would hold no interest to either of them. Misaki was simply glad to hear the other man's voice, knowing all too well that the conversation on the phone could've been the last time he'd have had the chance to hear it. So he listened intently to every syllable, every nook of the deep tone, letting the familiar voice waft into his ears as a deep appreciation for the novelist's life rooted itself in his brain.

At the other end of the conversation, Akihiko seemed to be having far more difficulty absorbing the moment than his young lover was. The struggle to keep the words moving was apparent on Misaki's face, and the forced placidity was doing nothing more than unnerving him, which was a rather hard thing to do to Akihiko Usami. Misaki's calm demeanor mixed with the constant twitching of his brown eyes, as if he was constantly checking to see if Akihiko was hurt somewhere, and the slight tenseness of his body just made the injured man realize how _not_ at calm the boy genuinely was. On the outside, he was levelheaded and ready to return to his reality with Usagi, but on the inside, Akihiko knew, Misaki was reduced back into the crying child who blamed himself solely for the loss of people so important to him. Misaki was at the mercy of his merciless guilt, and Akihiko suddenly grew scared that no amount of consoling would mend his terrified heart.

* * *

Part 2 end - to be continued

AN: The final installment approaches soon... Get ready for the feels.


	3. Part 3

A Weakness So Terrible  
[Part 3]  
Yosuke

AN: WARNING - As you may have noticed, the rating of this story is M. This chapter does contain brief sexual situations (though if you're a fan of Junjou Romantica, I doubt that'll be a problem for you).

JR not mine.

* * *

The hospital staff had eventually shooed the Takahashi boys away, and with careful guidance by Aikawa, they managed to avoid the crowd of reporters ready to eat up any information given to them. Aikawa drove Misaki home after parting ways with Takahiro and his wife, and once he managed to convince her he'd be alright for the night, the boy went about the tasks of informing Sumi about Akihiko's condition, cleaning up the apartment, making a small dinner and not eating it, and climbing the stairs to hide himself in Usagi's bedsheets until his crying spell passed. He wasn't hungry, sleepy, or even aware of the time. He only knew how upset he was, and how suffocating his guilt felt in his body.

The smell of Usagi in his pillow and sheets eventually lulled Misaki into sleep, tears drying on his face as nighttime quickly approached.

Time passed in such a blurry state that Misaki Takahashi wasn't even sure how many days had passed until he got the call from Akihiko that he'd be coming home. Despite his initial defiance in seeing Usagi the first time he'd gone to the hospital, Misaki bolted out the door as soon as he got the word, hardly even dressed as he rushed to meet his mentor in time for his discharge. When he arrived, a reluctant Akihiko was being carted in a wheelchair to a waiting taxi. The mere sight of Misaki, however, seemed to raise his spirits, and he quickly stood from the chair, much to the nurses' grief.

"Misaki, you came-"

"Sit down!" Misaki shouted, nearly throwing himself at the novelist to get him seated in the chair again. Akihiko stared in surprise up at the student. Misaki looked to be near tears. "Don't stand up like that if the nurse needs to wheel you out! You know the hospital policy! You could hurt yourself! Don't be so stupid!"

The words seemed almost angry, but Akihiko saw the trembling bottom lip and the red tint of his cheeks. Misaki was happy to see his lover, and scared of anything happening to him again, no matter how small of an incident. So rather than get defensive like he normally would, Akihiko simply smiled and allowed the nurse to push him to the car, where Misaki helped him get in as if he'd somehow become some kind of invalid. Quite the opposite; the man was feeling more energetic than ever, having spent a week in a hospital bed. His limbs were finally stretching out and the sun felt so good on his skin. The only thing that would make the moment perfect was if he could wrap his arms around a certain slender-framed boy.

Once the cab door closed and Misaki was seated comfortably next to him, Akihiko gave the cab driver very distinct directions: his condo's address, and not to look in his rear-view mirror. And with a stifled protest from a very bashful Misaki, a congratulatory romp of sexual molestation ensued in the back of the cab. Needless to say, the cab driver was tipped graciously for minding his own business.

* * *

An uneasy layer of complacency seemed to have a hold on the apartment once they arrived home. Misaki's agitation at Akihiko's sexual forwardness was short-lived once he was grounded back in the reality of his guilty conscience and his injured lover. He did remember his original instructions to _not_ dote, but he found that a difficult task to accomplish; he needed to help Akihiko, if only to help himself. True, many things he ended up doing for the novelist were things he did on a regular basis, such as the cooking and cleaning, but he found himself doing them with a greater tensity in his labor, making sure everything was just right so Akihiko wouldn't feel the slightest bit inconvenienced.

Akihiko noticed it almost right away, though he tried valiantly not to let it bother him. He knew it was just in Misaki's nature to be a little overbearing with his responsibility, and he dared to say it was usually an endearing quality about him, but this time, Akihiko could clearly see the thick cloud of unusual timidity and desperation, as if the boy expected to be beaten for not doing assignments he had set for himself. Akihiko didn't like it at all, and, in a rather counterproductive attempt, tried to do some chores himself. This ended up creating Misaki all kinds of grief, causing the student to flail over him like a bird whose nest had been severely disturbed. Akihiko was banished from his own kitchen, which was a threat the man decided to humor, seeing as he was rather useless in there anyway, considering the sling his arm was in and the medication he was forced to take on a daily basis.

Life tried with great strife to put itself back into its regular routine for the two men, and truthfully, Akihiko could've adapted just fine to his temporary situation of being one-armed, seeing as this wasn't exactly the first time he'd ever broken a limb. But Misaki's shame created massive tumors in the normalcy, turning any beautiful day into just a facade to hide the ever-imminent rainclouds that would drown out any happiness for him. It wasn't just a phase, Akihiko had finally noticed after a week of the constantly looming apathy. This incident had truly destroyed whatever supports Misaki had built for himself in light of the tragedy of his parents so many years ago. The boy had fallen down into some deep hole inside himself, a place where Akihiko had died in that car.

It came about one evening when Akihiko was finally forced to do something about it.

* * *

The broad frame of the exhausted and fussy novelist was slouched heavily in his office chair, staring absentmindedly at his computer screen, having lost track of how many times his insertion point had blinked until he could think of something to force into his newest manuscript. He was slowly sobering up from his recent dose of medication, and he'd already decided, against the doctor's orders, to throw his sling across the room and simply try to operate with the casted arm. His fingers could still move just fine, but anyone would think that fact had slipped past the man completely as he remained motionless, trying his best through his boredom to come up with something to add to the next line.

He barely heard his door open, and slowly turned his head to look at the slender young man hovering in his doorway, eyes bashful and shoulders tensed as if expecting to be yelled at for his intrusion. But Akihiko only smiled and spun his chair slowly to face him.

"Yes?"

"I'm..." Misaki started quietly. "I'm sorry to bother you while you're working." The words _"I'm sorry"_ had slipped out of Misaki's mouth so many times that past week that despite Akihiko's stern instructions to _not_ blame himself for what had happened to him, the student seemed quite hellbent on disregarding those orders, one way or another, be it by declaring outright that it was his fault, or apologizing through other reasonings. If he said he was sorry for bothering him, it most certainly sounded like an underlying apology for causing his near-death experience.

Akihiko tried to ignore that, however, and continued smiling at him. "It's no problem. I was just about to take a break anyway. I think I need another happy pill," he offered up lightheartedly, referring to his pain medication. Truth be told, he wasn't in that much pain; a small surgery on his shoulder had fixed that problem. He just liked the high he got, though admittedly it made him want to fuck Misaki like crazy. He'd barely made a move on him all week, though. He noted that, other than the time in the cab, Misaki had barely put up a fight like he normally did, and for the most part just lay back and let Akihiko do as he desired. The man could only sigh at the heavy complacency, aware that Misaki was probably just too tired and upset to fend off the man's sexual advances anymore.

It saddened Akihiko, because one of the things he genuinely loved most was watching his young lover squirm beneath him, protesting weakly and trembling, trying to fight against his rebellious body's reactions whenever the man did something that drove him up the wall with eroticism. All the denial Misaki piled up during sex was just a passionate build-up to one giant "Yes!" when Akihiko finally let him come...

But that was beside the point, and making it difficult to focus on the shy student in the room. Akihiko adjusted himself a little to hide his ever-so-slightly growing arousal, and tried to put his full attention into the conversation.

"You're not supposed to take more than two pills a day," Misaki had interjected once he seemed to have his attention. "The doctor said so."

"Oh, one or two more won't hurt me. Maybe you should try one. The buzz is pretty decent," Akihiko joked, but the saddened look on Misaki's face suggested that the man's antics were being taken seriously.

"I shouldn't get high, not when I have to take care of you." A passing tremble of his body told Akihiko that Misaki was faintly imagining not being able to look after his boyfriend due to some mistake he might make. Misaki's eyes found Akihiko's after a moment. "If you really want another, though, I can get it for you-"

"It was a joke, Misaki," Akihiko sighed, trying hard not to sound so agitated. "There's virtually no pain left anyway. I could probably stop taking them." He was going to miss his buzz...

Misaki's head perked up a little. "Really? No pain?"

"Not really." Akihiko forced out a smile, sugar-coating the situation a little. His back hurt a little, and his shoulder cramped some, but that wasn't anything Misaki needed to know. "I'll call the doctor tomorrow to see what he thinks."

That slight indication of his improvement seemed to lift Misaki's spirits just a little, and the novelist was delighted to see the delicate features of his student's face slip into a small smile, the first genuine one Akihiko had seen all week. It was about time.

"Misaki, why don't we go out somewhere today?" Akihiko suggested, trying his hardest to keep the boy's spirit up. But an unusual look of trepidation passed over the others face as Misaki's smile slowly disappeared.

"Oh, um... I shouldn't..." he said rather quietly, as if it might somehow offend Akihiko to decline the offer. "Honestly, I have... some stuff to do..." The words died out slowly, losing life in their semi-brave attempt to sound sincere. The truth was, Misaki had a week's worth of assignments from his classes piling up, and now that his self-designated chores were done, and once he finished doing what he'd set in there to do in the first place, he planned to take the opportunity to complete at least some of them. But, if Usagi wanted to do something else with his time...

Misaki swallowed, his dry mouth aching in the effort, and he peeked back up nervously at the pair of eyes staring him down in wonder.

"If..." he started quietly. "If you want to do something today, though... we can." He tried to hold in a sad sigh at the thought of the blank papers sitting on his bed, unfinished and more than likely remaining that way. But he couldn't even sigh over it, could he? He had other, more primary, duties to fulfill, and anything he needed for himself should've been put second, and if that meant failing a class or two for Akihiko's comfort, than he supposed he'd have to retake some classes next semester.

Akihiko seemed to sense there was something underlying the offer, and also tried his best to hold in a sigh of discontent. "Misaki, I know you feel like you need to do everything for me, and I appreciate it, but you seriously can just take a break every now and then." All his efforts to convince him to flat-out _stop_ had finally come to end, seeing as Misaki had no intention of complying. So he could at least tell him to take a breather once in a while. "We don't have to go out if you don't want to. I'm tired, anyway."

Oh, dear. Now guilt was flashing in Misaki's eyes. This needed to stop.

"Misaki, stop beating yourself up." His voice was gradually getting sterner. "Didn't I tell you-"

But he was cut off when Misaki suddenly and quickly approached him, his face resolute but still concerned, like every time he did anything that past week, that he would be turned away in his attempts to help. The boy stopped short of Akihiko's chair, seemingly avoiding eye contact as much as possible. Taking in a short breath as if to ready himself for whatever he was about to do, Misaki dropped to his knees and placed his hands on the others legs. After a moment of what appeared to be mental debate, Misaki's fingers deftly reached for Akihiko's zipper, yanking open the pants before the man could even comprehend what his lover was doing.

Misaki had tried this once before. In a futile attempt to praise Akihiko for an achievement he'd received for one of his novels, Misaki had wanted to give his boyfriend something no one else would be able to give him, and something that the man might really want. Needless to say, the experience had been embarrassing and clumsy, and in the end, Akihiko was on top and fucking little Misaki's brains out. After that, the novelist had never tempted Misaki to try it again, and the boy had never hinted at wanting to do it. Akihiko knew it wasn't the act that disgusted Misaki, just the thought of how inexperienced he was and how badly it had gone the first time. Akihiko didn't want to put Misaki through that embarrassment again, and never tread on the idea. But that wasn't to say he hadn't made the student make up for it with... _other_ bodily explorations...

But that was a derailing thought train, and Akihiko's brain was screaming at him to turn his full attention to the boy who was suddenly wading into dangerous territory. Why was Misaki doing this? That is, he _was _about to give a blowjob, right?

Oh, yes, most definitely a blowjob. Akihiko confirmed this thought the moment Misaki slid the man's flaccid length from his boxers. There was a look of morbid desperation on the boy's face as he seemingly held his breath and craned his neck to let his lips meet the exposed manhood.

The moment it was in that warm mouth, Akihiko felt the blood rush straight to the organ, hardening it significantly and causing the man to question his own self-control. Part of him knew he needed to stop Misaki, because for whatever reason he was doing this, it was obviously not for the reason Akihiko would normally want it. But part of him was too distracted by the sensual act he'd rarely received since the student had moved in with him.

In the end, Akihiko gave up and sank down into the suddenly-comfortable office chair, fingers loosely grasping the armrests as his eyes maintained a steady focus on his young lover's face.

Misaki's eyes were closed, though every now and then they would peak open just slightly, as if trying to constantly re-establish where he was and what he was doing. His small, slim hands were placed on Akihiko's inner thighs, dead still and unsure of what to do. And his mouth... those beautiful, flushed lips were wrapped around the engorged length with a slight tremble to them every now and then. The tongue inside was warm, wet, and moving with hesitancy and unpracticed strokes. But despite the amateur nature of the act, Akihiko wouldn't have enjoyed it more any other way, except for... if Misaki's eyes didn't look so sad.

When Misaki next peeked open his eyes, Akihiko was sure he caught a glimpse of how unhappy Misaki was feeling. Just the thought that the treatment Akihiko was receiving so much pleasure from could be causing his love so much pain stung deep into the man's chest, and almost instantly, he felt his libido draining.

Misaki noticed, realizing the length he was working on was suddenly going soft. His eyes shot open and he backed up, gaze drifting up to the looming man over him. Blue eyes watched him tiredly, and Misaki suddenly felt his face swallowed by heat. Blushing heavily, he started jumping to all kinds of conclusions.

"U-Usagi, I'm sorry, I know I'm not that good at this, but... I didn't realize it'd make you-"

"That's not it, Misaki," Akihiko interjected, reaching down to tuck himself back into his boxers and fix his pants. "It had nothing to do with skill. It just looked like it was causing you pain."

Misaki jerked at that, hands falling down to his shirt and twisting his fingers in the material. "W...Why? Why should it cause me pain? It couldn't possibly hurt me just to..." He couldn't finish the sentence, too modest and unused to such situations. "Usagi, I wanted to do that for you... I know I never... do that, and you've always been really patient with me. I just thought..."

"You thought what, Misaki?" Akihiko's voice wasn't demanding or derogatory, but careful and patient. One hand moved down to touch Misaki's face, who in return glimpsed up nervously at his mentor. "I've never asked you to do this before. Why would you suddenly feel like doing this?"

"I..." The boy struggled to form the sentences properly in his head, feeling the heat roil in his cheeks as a very dangerous confession ebbed on his tongue. "I... I owe you so much... I know I always try to fight you off when you want to h... have s-sex, so to make up for... _everything_... I thought I'd start doing more for you-"

He was very suddenly cut off when he quite forcefully found himself on the couch adjacent to the computer table, on his back with a knee shoved up between his legs and hands pinning down his shoulders. Misaki stared in wide-eyed surprise at the angry face of his lover.

"You're forcing yourself to pleasure me to make up for the car accident?!"

Misaki gaped for a moment, his mouth opening and closing, trying to come up with a valid response, but the anger in Akihiko's eyes dulled his attempts, and he found he only had the coherency to nod dumbly. Akihiko resisted every urge to slap him.

"What would make you even _think_ I'd be okay with that?!"

His voice was getting louder, which in turn pushed Misaki deeper into his little shell of self-preservation. He stayed quiet, unsure of what he could say that wouldn't anger the novelist further.

"Dammit, Misaki, say something!"

"I owe you!" he blurted out before he could stop it. His eyelids screwed shut as he felt the onslaught of emotions overtake him, and tears burn just behind his eyes. He knew Akihiko was still staring angrily at him, and tried desperately to come up with a way of explaining himself that wouldn't sound so bad, but the proper words just lost themselves in the turbulence of his deafening heartbeat and the painful knot in his throat. "After you came home from the hospital... I just thought of all the things I'd never done for you, things I knew you'd never get if you hadn't... come home at all..." The tears brimmed from behind squeezed eyelids. "I wanted to give you everything, anything you'd ever want, because... what if you hadn't b-been here to be with me anymore?"

"Misaki, that's not-"

"I know you're going to say it's not necessary, and that you're fine, and that I don't have anything to feel guilty for, but I do, I really do," Misaki managed to choke out in a breathy voice, tears sparkling on his cheeks as he did his best to meet Akihiko's simmering gaze. "Usagi, I shouldn't have argued with you over the phone. I should've just done as you asked, and this whole mess could've been avoided. I know you don't like it when I talk to Sumi, so I... I stopped talking to him."

This surprised Akihiko.

"When you got back from the hospital, and he tried to call me, I told him I had other things to do... He's tried calling me since, but I haven't answered his calls. I hope... I hope that makes things a little better..." The tears were running freely down his face now, and Misaki's chin was trembling with the effort to hold back his sobs. "I'll shut out everything else for you, Usagi, I promise. I'll behave however you want me to, and I'll do everything for you, just please..." The sobs were taking control now, his vision nearly blinded by the tears as he finally broke down beneath the man pinning him to the couch with much less force than before. Misaki's body shook with each breath as he verbalized his sadness so much more clearly than he'd been able to all week. "Please, Usagi, please forgive me! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!" He lifted his arms to cover his face with them, crying deeply and relentlessly as the pain and guilt that had suffocated his heart ever since the accident swarmed him completely, almost to the point where he thought he would die from grief.

Akihiko, as a man who made a living on comprising beautiful sentences and charming ideas, could say nothing in response to his broken lover. He could only stare in wordless, thoughtless uncertainty down at Misaki, shaking with sobs and begging for forgiveness for a crime he didn't commit. What could he possibly say to him? What words could possibly put this right for poor Misaki? What words would the boy believe? What would make him feel healed?

"Just..."

Misaki started to speak before Akihiko could even summon a tangible thought.

"Just... Can you just..." The sobs slowly broke apart bit by bit until Misaki could get his words out through wet gasps. "Could you just fuck me?"

Again, Akihiko could say nothing, his shock returning full force.

"Just fuck me... Please just do it..." Misaki peeked up at his mentor through his arms, his face red and wet from crying. "It'll make me feel... useful to you... And I know it'll make you feel good. Do something with me... Show me you're angry, I know I deserve it... Just fuck me and maybe everything will start to go back to normal."

It was almost unimaginable, nearly inconceivable how torn and broken the young man beneath Akihiko was, how deep his shame ran and how hard the mere act of living each day was. Misaki blamed himself so badly that he wanted true justification for what he believed was an accident he'd caused, and he wanted his own lover to exact that revenge. To use the boy like he was nothing, like his feelings shouldn't have been accounted for, like he'd lost his purpose as a legitimate boyfriend and companion and was now nothing more than the human equivalent of a stress-ball, was just so barbaric, so ludicrous in Akihiko's mind that for a moment, he could almost feel the intense agony strangling Misaki's heart briefly touch his own, and the novelist could do nothing more than pull the boy into his arms and hold onto him for dear life.

Misaki sniffled and kept his eyes shut tight, the last of his sobs still weakly struggling to find their way out as his Usagi, ignoring his hurt arm and the discomfort of this new position, lay on top of him with his arms held tight around the younger man, face buried in the side of his neck. He couldn't say anything. He could think of nothing that would resolve the situation, and could only pray that the sincerity in that moment would reach Misaki, if only for a little while, to ease his pain.

After several long minutes, Misaki timidly returned the embrace, his fingers lightly clutching at his lover's shirt as he finally opened his eyes and tried to form his words correctly, at the risk of destroying the semi-peaceful moment they were sharing.

"Usagi, I... I just can't understand how you aren't mad at me..." he practically breathed out, lips moving against the man's neck as he spoke. Akihiko felt the delicate touches, returning the affection with light nips at the boy's neck. He felt his smaller frame shudder against him, but could find no sensuality in the moment, having just been asked to commit a rape.

"Misaki," Akihiko half-whispered and raised himself to his elbows over Misaki, staring down at him like he'd just witnessed the student coming back from the brink of death. One of his hands started to carefully stroke the soft brown hair affectionately, a move Misaki wasn't necessarily used to but didn't particularly dislike. "Misaki, I want to sleep with you."

The reaction of blushing to such a comment was ingrained in Misaki, and despite the fact that he'd just requested his mentor _fuck him_, he couldn't help the heat reaching his cheeks at the forwardness of Akihiko's statement. "L... Like I said, Usagi, you should-"

"No, Misaki." Akihiko kept petting the boy's hair, keeping his gaze locked on him to help him realize how serious he was. "I don't want to use you, I want to make love to you."

It was such a simple request, something they'd done so many times (more times than not against Misaki's initial will), but this time, after the heavy moment they had just experienced, Misaki's break-down, and Akihiko's anger, the boy knew this wouldn't be just a senseless romp of lust. Akihiko _wanted him_, he wanted to be with him. And with all the time it had taken for Misaki to inevitably crumble from his own guilt, just as surely, he felt that little seed of love he had for Usagi grow, and even if just for that moment, he couldn't see Usagi's face in his mind looking down on him with anger over the accident, and he couldn't hear his voice filled with rage in his imagination. He saw Usagi for how he really felt, how genuinely he loved the boy and held no strife for him.

Misaki tried his hardest not to start crying all over again, but he wasn't completely successful, though this time they weren't tears of fear and anguish. The boy clung to his older lover as he kissed him, and through some seamless transition from Akihiko's workspace to his dark, warm bedroom, Misaki found himself naked on the lush comforter with Usagi's hands dancing across his skin, tender words of love being whispered into his ear, and strong hips pushing against his own trembling body. He was rocked against the mattress, slow and firm, hands grasping at the broad shoulders and mouth agape with moans and Akihiko's petname. The passion was real, no hatred or guilt present when Misaki finally came, his cries smothered by a heated kiss as Akihiko, in return, emptied himself into his lover.

With the sheets still warm and their skin still heated, Misaki fell asleep curled against Akihiko, his tears drying on his cheeks, and for the first time in a long time, his heart free from the crooked talons of his shame.

* * *

_"I would've switched places with you... if I could, Usagi."_

_ "I know, but there's no need for those thoughts anymore, okay?"_

_ "I couldn't let it go... I know you say you think you understand how I feel, but I'm not sure you do... I almost died when Aikawa told me that... that you were in the hospital."_

_ "Ah, Misaki, was that a love confession?"_

_ "I'm trying to be serious, Usagi..."_

_ "So am I."_

_ "I think I wanted you to hate me. I wanted you to be mad. I thought maybe it'd help me cope with what I'd done- I mean... what I _thought_ I'd done... I thought if you could be mad at me, it would be the punishment that would help me redeem myself in some way. I used to think that my parents must've hated me for causing their accident."_

_ "Misaki, you can't possibly believe, after all this time-"_

_ "No, you're right, I don't. Takahiro helped me with that. But for a long time, I did, and it made me hurt inside to think that my parents in heaven were looking down at me with contempt, looking down at their own son in hatred. I don't know what hurt me most, missing them or fearing what they thought of me. It was my weakness, a weakness so terrible it made my heart hurt."_

_ "Well, what do you believe now, Misaki?"_

_ "... I believe my parents loved me, and they still do. I believe Takahiro will never blame me for what happened, and I think that should be good enough. I believe it was just a set of very unfortunate circumstances that led to their accident, and what happened would've happened regardless of whether or not I'd spoken to them on the phone that night. But that little spot in my heart that tells me I'm guilty is still there, and I don't think I'll ever get rid of it. It's the same spot, the same weakness that tells me what happened to you was my fault, too."_

_ "I guess that's my next project for you, then."_

_ "What?"_

_ "Filling that spot of yours with good feelings instead of bad ones. It's not healthy to have a hole in your heart, and I'd say I'm pretty good at filling in your holes..."_

_ "Usagi! That's such a perverted thing to say!"_

_ "After all this time, you're surprised I'd pull out a dirty pun like that? Misaki, you're the cutest."_

_ "Well, next time I'm trying to be sincere with you, I'll keep that in mind."_

_ "I love your sincerity, Misaki. I rarely get to hear what you really think of me. And I'm so happy you've finally opened yourself up to accepting what I really thought of the whole mess with the car accident."_

_ "... What is that you really think?" _

_ "You know what I think, Misaki. I just want to make sure you think the same thing as I."_

_ "You got hurt, but... it... it wasn't... Usagi, if I hadn't of argued with you-"_

_ "And I need to learn to ease up a little, because then I have to watch you suffer for shit like this. But it wasn't your fault, Misaki. Look at me. Look at me, Misaki. Say it wasn't your fault."_

_ "It wasn't... It wasn't my fault... It was both of our faults."_

_ "... I can work with that. Now say I'm the sexiest man you've ever met and you can't live without me."_

_ "Usagi, you're taking it too far."_

_ "C'mon, say it. Say you love me."_

_ "Can you stop teasing me already?"_

_ "That's not teasing. _This_ is teasing..."_

_ "... Nnh... A-Ah, no... Usagi..."_

_ "Say it, Misaki..."_

_ "Nh... I... can't... Uhn..."_

_ "Misaki..."_

_ "... I love you..."_

_ "... Misaki... Look at me..."_

_ "Usagi, s-stop, I can't..."_

_ "Misaki, it's time to stop hurting yourself over my accident. I'm alive and well. Can't that be enough for us to move on?"_

_ "I can try..."_

_ "Because you love me?"_

_ "Stop making me say it. Isn't once enough?"_

_ "Never."_

_ "Yes, okay? I'll try because I love you and you love me and you're alive and it's not my fault, now stop moving your fingers in me! I can't... I can't take it!"_

_ "Mm... I love it when you're sincere."_

_ "... I love that you're alive."_

_ "Me, too."_

* * *

Ze end.

* * *

AN: I apologize for dragging some of those parts out; the story came out a lot longer than I intended. I tried to make it worth it with the emotions and just a pinch of sexy sex stuff. On a related note, sorry for the angst. I'm not a fan of taking lighthearted anime and writing a sob-fest about it, but this one was just sitting in the back of my brain and it needed to be let out.

I understand that due to the story reaching levels of sadness the manga storyline never quite explored, Misaki was probably a bit OOC, and for that I sincerely apologize. I can't stand OOC-ness. I tried really hard to determine what he _would_ do and say if this were to ever happen. I hope most of you agree.

I suppose the story deserved more of a climactic ending, what with all the drama in the middle, but I was concerned dragging it out any longer would start to disinterest readers, so I made the ending short and sweet. I hope it was enough for you.

Thanks for reading! Now click on that pretty link that says review and type something fancy.


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